Fifteen Signs
by DriftingSpirit
Summary: Pretty much, Cuddy has fifteen signs that she is completely insane. HUDDY!


"Doctor… I think I've lost my mind."

Dr. Frederick Tate watched his newest patient with a mix of confusion and concern. For one, she was probably the most normal person to walk through his front doors. Crazy, however, as he had discovered in his many years as a therapist, was relative to the situation in which the patient's mind was holding them in. He was, for the most part, fairly certain Lisa Cuddy wasn't insane. Of course, he could be wrong. It had happened before, it could happen again.

This was literally a last resort for Cuddy. She had tried everything. A sabbatical, plain out ignoring her annoyance, a quick trip to the spa, etc. The list grew with every passing moment that she spent trying to move on. By now, though, she was fairly sure she would never move on. He wouldn't allow it. So that's what brought her to a therapist, the last place on earth she thought she'd ever be.

"And why, exactly, do you think that?" Dr. Tate questioned in a thick British accent.

Cuddy's mouth opened as she went to answer but her response caught in her throat. Mostly because she wasn't sure what that reply was. Why did she think she had lost her mind? There were so many reasons but her brain couldn't seem to come up with one. After so many years and now it was failing her. Great, just great.

"Lisa?" Dr. Tate called softly, sounding concerned. His brow was furrowed as he tilted his head to meet her eyes.

"What?" She said as if she had missed his first question entirely.

"Why do you think you've gone insane?" He adjusted his glasses and settled in.

"Well…" Cuddy began, twiddling her thumbs. "It all started about three weeks ago. No… It all started about fifteen years ago but the shit really hit the fan, if you know what I mean, about three weeks ago."

**Three weeks earlier…**

**July 17, 2006**

**10:57 P.M.**

**Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital**

Dr. Lisa Cuddy shoved the last thin stack of files into her briefcase. It had claimed a home on her large mahogany desk for just over two days, bringing her directly to her final decision to bring them home. She wasn't entirely sure what the contents of these files were, but it didn't matter. Whatever the problem was that it demanded a file be created for its satisfaction, it was probably a good idea for her to read it.

She didn't actually like staying at work for quite so long. In her contract, she was promised to be off by five. Rarely did that happen. She deserved it though, didn't she? She worked long, arduous hours brimming with small annoyances and problematic situations. Difficult clients, difficult patients, difficult donors; the list went on and on. Was it too much to ask to be heading home at five? Certainly not. Realistically, she knew that would never happen. There was too much to be done in a short period of time for her to leave work at five and not take any of it home with her. Her job had spilled into her personal life for so long it was no wonder it didn't really exist any more. Her personal life, that is. Not her job. Her job definitely existed. Walked on three legs, too. Two real, one artificial. Hobbling straight towards her.

"You're not headed home?" Her Head of Diagnostics, Dr. Gregory House, asked as if even the idea of such was completely ludicrous.

"In fact, I was." She told him, fishing in her bag for her keys. "What are you still doing here? It's way after noon."

He gave her an obnoxiously loud laugh, doubling over and slapping his good leg. "You are just too funny! I don't know how I stand it!" He exclaimed before straightening back up and setting his features as if the whole episode had never happened.

"Yes... well, it's late. Goodnight, Dr. House." She bobbed her head at him before heading for the door, this made a little hard due to his large frame blocking her way.

"Did you actually think I only came down here to say goodnight? Have we met?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow at her. These, of course, were the very first signals that she had gone absolutely mad. She just hadn't recognized them as such at the time.

"Fine, House." She caved. "You've got sixty seconds."

"But Cuddy!" He exclaimed, his electric blue eyes widening. "You know I don't work well under pressure!"

She frowned sarcastically at him. "House, it's late. I'm tired. I want to go to bed. So either hurry up, or get out of my way."

"Fine, if I can come with you." He gave her a fetching smile.

She almost agreed. Even against her insides screaming at her that the tightening in her belly was ridiculous because there was no way he meant it, she almost told him to come along. Then she felt stupid. Nothing more, nothing less.

"House…" She said, tapping her foot. This was a mechanism that teachers and parents had mastered to get their kids or students to do what they wanted. She thought it might work with House.

It didn't. "Yes?" He grinned.

"House… please?" She didn't know why she was begging. It must have sounded pathetic to his ears. She hated that.

She wondered what he would say if she told him he was the star of every single sexual fantasy she had. She wondered if his eyes would darken with his own personal curiosity or lighten with new power over her filling his veins. She had no idea. That was why she could never tell him. He'd mock her for it; tease her for actually craving physical contact. He wouldn't, however, accuse her of only wanting him due to his crippled state. That wasn't a plus in her eyes. In that moment, though, she considered telling him. Maybe he'd leave. Maybe he wouldn't, though. She couldn't take the risk. Note, signal number two of insanity.

She pushed passed him and on out of the glass doors. He followed at a close distance. Maybe a little too close for her comfort.

"Are you running from me?" He asked incredulously.

"No," she replied hastily. "Just leaving. I thought we were done."

"That wasn't sixty seconds!" He exclaimed.

"No, it was three minutes. I was more than fair." She told him, giving him a small smile.

"Nothing about you is fair." He grinned at her mischievously.

Her secretary poked her head out the front doors. "Dr. Cuddy? Are you leaving?"

"Trying to."

"Could you sign these before you go?"

Cuddy nodded and beckoned her out. "Make it quick."

House smiled widely at the secretary. "Don't worry, she's always telling me the same thing. That woman is insatiable."

The secretary blushed softly before backing inside. "Thanks, Dr. Cuddy." She squeaked before closing the door.

Cuddy slammed the back of her hand into his arm. "Don't be an ass."

"But you like my ass." He taunted.

The perfect retort settled on her a second later and she set down the last of the paperwork. She leaned in close to him, lifting onto her toes to be nose to nose. "Nope, I like your dick, but every time I tell you to take me, you freeze up and leave." She let her eyes fall down his body to that particular area before returning to meet his. "Shame."

As the third sign of her insanity settled over House, she headed for her car, feeling as light as air. Her keys were in the ignition and she was pulling away from the hospital, a smile set on her face, with House still standing in front of the entrance with his mouth partially open. She nearly laughed out loud. After a moment's consideration, she did, realizing there was no one around to wonder about how crazy she was. She slept soundly in her bed that night. Curled up in her warm, sunny yellow sheets pulled up to her chin. At a time when her eyes wouldn't normally shut, she sighed softly in her slumber.

It was raining when she awoke. Large droplets slapped against her roof, sliding down her drainpipes. Through the rain, the sun lit the sky in the white light of morning. Upon awakening, she realized she had never slept so well in her life. After her shower, she dismissed even the slightest of possibilities that House had anything to do with this revelation.

**Two days later…**

**July 19, 2006**

**12:33 P.M**

**Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital**

Dr. Lisa Cuddy had just gotten off of the phone with Mr. Carson Kent, a potential donor, when the last person she wanted to see stormed her shelter and demanded she come out with her hands up. She wouldn't have obliged him if he hadn't yelled it at her and informed him of such. In response to her reply, he powered forward and lifted her from her chair.

"What? Are you scared your tummy will show? Hands up!" He commanded.

She stared at him, astonished. "Who do you think you are, a cop? You can't stomp into my office and make me follow you! My hands up or not!" She exclaimed.

From his back pocket, he swiftly pulled a pair of handcuffs and held them up. "Either you hold them up or I do."

Sign number four was established when she lifted her hands into the air over her head. It must have looked stupid, but she'd rather be in control than be handcuffed by House. There was just no saying what he would do.

"Okay, House," She said, "Now will you tell me what you are doing?"

Before she could do anything more than gasp, the first bit of cool metal hit her wrist as House closed the cuff. She yanked her other arm down and out of the way.

"What the hell are you doing!" she exclaimed. "I thought you weren't going to use those if I put my hands up."

"I never said that." He grinned. "It was just easier for me if you put your hands up all by yourself."

It wasn't long before she found out his intention wasn't to hook the other cuff to her other wrist. Instead, he latched it onto his own wrist. This, somehow, was more frightening than being handcuffed by House. He grinned at her, raising both of their arms.

"Won't this be fun?" He questioned with a large smile.

Her blood was boiling too hard that she had the only reaction possible: she laughed. Hysterically. "It just figures!" She shrieked, raising their joined arms once more. "How could I expect anything less?"

"Yes…" House was giving her a very odd look. "This is obviously a hilarious situation."

"Don't act all serious!" She yelled at him through galls of laughter. "This is your fault! We didn't slip into handcuffs by accident! You put them on me!"

He shook his head. "I always forget to consider that at times like these our friendship means nothing to you."

She gaped at him, giggles rumbling up her throat and slipping out of the corners of her mouth. "Our friendship?" She threw her head back and screamed with laughter.

"Okay, okay!" House called. "If you stop acting like you've lost your mind and cooperate, I'll cut you in for half."

The laughter stopped immediately. "What?" She hissed.

"I've got Wilson hogtied for a thousand bucks. You cooperate and 500 of them is yours." House offered.

She shook her head at him, disgusted. "Of course, I should have figured this. Wilson offers you a thousand dollars to waste my valuable time and you jump at the opportunity!"

He frowned wistfully at her. "I did not jump." He gestured at his leg. "I simply informed Wilson that I could, in fact, stand to be around you for twenty-four hours."

Her eyes widened at him. "No, no! Absolutely not!"

"Why not?" he whined.

"Well, for one, even if you can stand me, I can't stand you. For two, I am _not_ sharing my bed with you. And c, we are not showering together." She told him.

He gave her a coy smile. "Come on, Cuddy. I'm so much fun in the shower, though."

"I-" what she had planned to say was, 'I don't care.' Unfortunately, the words on her lips were, 'I can't wait to find out.' Sign number five. "I'm not wasting my day with you!" she exclaimed.

"Is it really a waste if you're having fun?" He questioned, winking at her.

"Fun for who?" She grimaced.

"Don't you mean whom? I don't think ending that with 'who' is politically correct." He retorted with a grin.

"Since when do you bother with political correctness?" She questioned, moving the arm attached to him.

"Since I became locked at the arm to my boss. It suddenly seems very important… Well, along with going commando, but we won't get into that. Or should we?" They were standing at angle that gave them the appearance of merely huddling close together.

"I have things to do." She gestured widely at her desk.

"And I have to be getting back to my office for a differential. Which is more important, paperwork or the life of a patient? I know, I know. Tough call."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Fine. We go to your office for a differential, but then we come right back here so I can finish my work."

He smiled at her innocently. "Of course. Have I told you how incredibly sexy you sound when you're scheduling time for us to spend together?"

"Let's go."

To say they weren't ogled, blatantly stared at, that loud gasps and strange looks didn't echo in the air, would be a complete lie. Doctors, nurses, and patients alike stopped to watch the Dean of Medicine stroll passed, latched to her Head of Diagnostics. House grinned broadly at them, giving them a slight wave. Cuddy attempted to keep her head held high and her dignity intact while handcuffed to House. It was not an easy task.

House's team had the reaction she had predicted in her mind on the way up. It had been a better distraction from House's comments in the elevator than anything else. Anything to slow down the fast pace of her heart. Although, on some level, Cuddy had the feeling House knew the effects he had on her.

Cameron was the first to see them; her jaw predictably dropped. She watched them pass with a mix of shock and horror. Chase was next, spilling his freshly made cup of coffee all down the countertop. Foreman laughed, covering his mouth to try and hold some of it back in the presence of the big boss.

"Is this some kind of joke?" he asked, looking to Cuddy for the truth.

She shrugged hopelessly. "I wish it was."

"Don't you mean 'were'? Doesn't that sound a little more correct?" House asked her.

"If we were British, maybe."

"Haven't we already discussed your lack of political correctness?"

"Haven't you figured out that I don't care yet?"

"Does someone want to explain why you two are handcuffed together, or is this one of those 'use your imagination' things?" Foreman asked from his seated position at the table.

House pointed at Cuddy. "She likes to role-play."

Cuddy smacked his arm. "He made a bet and I got stuck in the middle of it."

"Literally." Chase snorted.

"We can find another set of handcuffs and you can join us if you'd like." Cuddy threatened him. She was already having a fairly bad day. In the back of her mind, she admitted that House's pestering and presence in general actually made her feel a little better. Not that she'd ever admit this out loud. Sign number six.

Chase's eyes widened and he swung his head from side to side. "Nope, I'm perfectly happy where I am."

"Cleaning coffee off the floor?" Cuddy asked.

"Uh, yes." Chase nodded. "More than happy, in fact."

"Can we get on with the differential? The good doctor here and I have a lunch date that I couldn't be paid to miss." He winked at his team.

Cuddy rolled his eyes.

By lunch, the rumors were already circulating around Princeton Plainsboro. She sat across from House, glad that he'd handcuffed her left hand, eating a bowl of Greek salad. He, on the other hand, was having quite a bit of trouble. Attempting to eat a sandwich with one hand wasn't as easy as he'd hoped it would be. After awhile, he gave up his attempt at one hand and forced her right hand up so he could use both.

"Hey!" She exclaimed. "I need that hand."

"No you don't." He informed her. "I need this hand. You lucked out, it's your left hand you don't need and that's the one attached to me. I, however, do happen to need my right hand."

"I lucked out?" She repeated incredulously.

He smiled sardonically at her.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Stop looking at me and just eat. I'd rather the next several hours pass without incident."

He bit his lip. "That's an interesting idea, but…"

"But?" Cuddy pressed.

"I have to pee." He announced, pointing towards the bathroom.

"Oh, no." She shook her head at him. "Hold it, no way. I am not going in there."

"Oh come on," He pleaded. "You've been in the men's room before."

"That was a little different. For one, I wasn't touching the hand you were using to touch yourself at the moment you were touching yourself." She told him.

"How do you know I'm not touching myself now?" He winked at her.

Panicked, she glared down at their cuffed hands, a good distance from him pants. She sighed in relief. "Very funny."

"What I don't get is why it would bother you so much." He shrugged nonchalantly.

Her mouth opened as she glared at him incredulously. "You don't get why that would bother me?"

"No, I don't. You're a doctor, meaning you get to touch men inappropriately all the time, whether you want to or not. And I'm not even making you touch me." He leaned in a little closer to her. "Not to mention that comment you made the other night. How could that possibly bother you?"

Her faced steadily reddened and she was forced to look away. "I wasn't serious."

"Of course you weren't." He said sarcastically. "But none of this changes the fact that I have to pee, now."

She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing she was going to regret this later, but nodded anyway. She didn't have to look. There was no reason for her to look, in fact. House didn't ever have to know how she felt about him. Or how much she was dying to see… and to touch… and to taste. Sign number seven.

Before she knew it, she was being dragged to the closest men's room by an oddly cheerful House. It was odd to be yanked down every couple of seconds because he just had to cuff her to his cane arm. So down she went with every limp forward, cursing herself for giving him such a handicap. Fortunately, she felt more sorry for herself at the moment. She worked incredibly hard to keep a distance between her and House. And yet, here she was. Going to the bathroom with him, being so close to what she desired more than anything. Not that he could ever know that.

"You don't have to close your eyes. I don't care if you look." He whispered in her ear, shortly followed by the sound of a zipper heading south. She squeezed her eyes shut.

"I'm not looking." She told him.

"You know you want to." He taunted.

She blushed a little. If only he knew how right he was. Or perhaps he did and just didn't want to take their relationship that far. Either way, she couldn't show any signs of her attraction. Peeking seemed like a major sine. Her fingers brushed over his jean-clad thigh and she balled her hand into a fist automatically. She heard him chuckle. Of course he was enjoying this. Why wouldn't he?

The next thirty seconds were the longest of her life. It seemed thirty years had passed before he was yanking her over to the sink to wash his hands after flushing. Her head was bowed in what she was sure looked like shame but was actually extreme control. If she looked at him, he would see the want in her eyes. He couldn't see that. It was better he took her stance as one of shame rather than one of lust.

"You see? That wasn't so bad, now was it?" He lifted her chin to force her to look at him. She kept her eyes closed. "You can look now, all put away."

She worked a frown onto her face as she eased her eyes open and looked up at him. "Don't you ever do this to me again. Ever. I will kill you."

He laughed. "I thought you would like to be handcuffed. A suit like you must love to be overpowered." He leaned down close to her, the end of his nose early touching hers. "But I guess I was wrong. Consider it noted."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't note anything."

**The next day…**

**July 20, 2006**

**10:03 A.M.**

**Cuddy's house**

Cuddy awoke from the most fulfilling sleep she could remember ever having. She curled tighter into her pillow moments before realizing it wasn't a pillow at all. She attempted to jump back with a small scream, only she was yanked forward instead and onto one very much awake Dr. Gregory House.

She was on the verge of yelling 'what the hell are you doing in my bed!' when the events of the previous day flowed back forward and she groaned. This was bad. He was never supposed to be in her bed and looking at her like they had spent the night making each other's dreams come true instead of bickering of space and amount of sheets.

"Morning, babe." He grinned at her, leaning into her.

She pulled back onto her heels and looked down at her crumpled suit. "Why are we still handcuffed? Isn't twenty four hours up yet?"

He shook his head. "Nope, not 'til noon."

She groaned again. "Well, I need them off now. I have to go shower." She gestured at her body.

He took the gesture as a chance to look her over and smiled at the blush that crept up her skin, staining her cheeks red. "Shower sounds fun."

"No!" She reprimanded. "No, definitely not! It's your fault I'm not even wearing pajamas!"

He held up his free hand innocently. "Don't blame me for that. I was perfectly comfortable with you changing your clothes. Or just taking them off. Let's be honest Cuddy, you like to sleep in the nude, don't you?"

She gave him a sardonic frown. "Shut up, would you? Take these off before I saw off your wrist."

He pointed at the clock and shrugged. "Still got two hours. You're just going to have to shower with me."

"House," She began in her boss voice, "I'm not in the mood to play games with you. Take these off, now."

He shrugged. "Whatever you say boss." He reached for her suit and she jumped back. Once again, she was yanked forward onto him. She cleared her throat and clambered back to her feet.

"What the hell are you doing?" She screeched at him.

"Taking those off." He shrugged, pointing at her clothes.

She rubbed her temple. "Remove the handcuffs, House."

"I can't, not for another two hours."

"I'm sure this wasn't what Wilson had in mind." She frowned.

"No you're not. You're just hoping that this wasn't it because than you'd be out of an excuse." He smirked.

"What excuse?" She questioned sarcastically. "I don't need one! I didn't agree to this!"

"Details," he excused.

She glared at him with her mouth open. "House, if you don't remove these now I'll remove your head."

"No you won't," he smirked confidently. "Then you'd be chained to a dead, headless body. Talk about traumatizing. How would that look to the patients?"

"Just remove them so I can go shower," she bartered. "Then you can reconnect us, I promise." Sign number eight. Who the hell would promise that?

Against all odds, not to mention his character, he caved.

**An hour later…**

**11:17 A.M.**

**Cuddy's house**

She was determined to not get caught. That should have been easy since House was downstairs, probably stuffing his face with some anonymous snack food she hadn't realized resided in her home. She eased the window upwards as quickly and quietly as possible. When it creaked, she froze. Straining her ears, she tiptoed to her closed bedroom door and pressed her ear to it. Nothing. Well, she could hear a small sound of music coming from the television, but other than that. She continued on.

Climbing out her window and into the tree was a lot harder than it should have been due to her skirt. Sign number nine, damn. She gave an exasperated sigh and clung to the branch closest to her window. Her feet slowly went over the edge and her clutch tightened.

"Why am I even doing this?" She whispered to herself. "Its my fucking house, he should leave. DAMN SKIRT!" she hissed.

"Miss Cuddy?"

She lifted her head, swinging it lightly to knock her hair out of the way. "Oh, good morning Gabriel." She greeted her fourteen-year-old neighbor with a smile.

"Why are you in a tree?" He questioned, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring up at her. She prayed he couldn't see under her skirt.

"That's a good question." She glared at her house.

"Need some help?" He offered brightly.

"No, thanks though." She gave him a forced grin and tightened her grip.

He shrugged. "Sure…" With that, he walked back across the street to observe from a distance.

With her next attempt to move, she dislodged herself completely and dropped instantly to the ground.

"Fuck," she whispered under her breath, on the edge of tears. "Why me? Why now?" She sat up and rubbed the back of her head, glaring up at the tree.

She climbed to her feet and used the tree to regain her balance. After a moment, she straightened her skirt and headed for her car. Slipping into the front seat, she shoved the key into ignition and turned.

"That was quite the show."

She jumped and nearly screamed as her eyes darted to the right, along with the upper half of her body, and encountered House.

"What the hell are you doing here, House?" She demanded.

"Oh, come on," he smirked. "You actually think I wouldn't consider the possibility that you would attempt to escape? Do you know me at all?"

She sighed, holding out her right wrist. "Fine, put it back on me." Sign number ten.

He forced her hand back onto the steering wheel as she backed out of her driveway. "Nope."

She frowned at him. "What do you mean 'nope'?"

"I mean, no. I can't really think of something n-o-p-e could stand for. Give me time." He told her.

"Than you put me through this when you didn't have to?!" she screeched at him.

He plugged his ears and shot her a look. "There is a consequence."

"Oh great." She said sarcastically. "I'm not even part of the bet, and yet I have a consequence. What is it?"

"It's actually my consequence. It just… involves you." He said with a coy grin.

"Yeah," she snorted. "That's not a consequence for me, then. What is it?"

"You'll see." He smiled sadistically and looked out the window.

She rolled her eyes and pulled into the hospital parking lot.

She turned to him when they finally passed through the double doors. "I don't want to see you for the next several hours. So do me a favor for one and go to clinic on your own. Don't try to do anything stupid with your patient that requires my permission. It more than likely isn't necessary. For once, House, just listen to me."

They separated without another word.

**The next day…**

**July 21, 2006**

**2:46 P.M.**

**The Diagnostics Department**

Cuddy walked swiftly with her head held high. She had nothing to fear, nothing to avoid. Sure, House's 'consequence' weighed ever heavier on her mind, but she didn't fret. There was no need. Obeying her when she had least expected it; she hadn't seen him since arriving at work the previous day. That, actually, made her even more suspicious. What would he try to pull? Maybe he wasn't going to do anything at all. Maybe he had just said that to set her on edge. She hoped, whatever it was, he did it soon. She didn't know how much longer she could stand this. Sign number eleven.

"Oh, sweet-cheeks!"

She groaned, turning her gaze skyward and demanding why she had asked for this to happen already to the heavens. She turned curtly on her heals to face the oncoming cripple. Only, he didn't stop once he had reached her. He just kept moving towards her, backing her up in front of Wilson's office. He tapped lightly on the window before turning back to her.

"Don't hit me after. I don't want that to be a part of the memory." He told her hurriedly.

She frowned at him and was about to question what he was talking about when he acted.

His mouth came down onto hers as his fingers curled into her suit jacket. He pulled her ever closer, holding her mouth to his with one open hand. At first, she froze. There was no possible way she could have prepared for this event and she cursed herself for not doing any research whatsoever.

His lips were surprisingly soft but not so surprisingly forceful. He didn't gently run his tongue over her bottom lip to ask for entrance, he yanked her jaw down with his thumb and took it without permission. Just like everything else.

She hated herself for responding to the gentle flicks of his tongue against her, the demanding circles of his thumb on her tummy. She wanted to push him away, she should push him away, but she couldn't. She couldn't fight the electricity racing through her bloodstream at the contact. In fact, she found herself kissing him back. Sign number twelve.

House broke the kiss when Wilson stepped out of his office.

"I'm so sorry, Lisa." Wilson apologized hastily. "I didn't think he'd really go through with it."

She didn't slap House like he had asked her not to do. She didn't yell at Wilson or House for what had just happened. She turned on her heels and simply walked away. With her head still held high and her eyes wide, she entered the elevator to the hushed silence of her employees staring on in shock.

**Three days later…**

**July 24, 2006**

**8:52 P.M.**

**Cuddy's Office**

Cuddy slid her tired body into the soft cotton of her blouse. She had taken it off around seven to relieve some of the heat. Luckily, no one had bothered her. Although, it wouldn't have been that big of a deal. She was wearing a perfectly respectable wife-beater underneath.

Cuddy had just shut off her desk lamp when her glass doors swung open and in limped the last person she was in the mood to see at that moment. Well, that one and several moments before.

"Leaving?" House said. It really wasn't a question. They both knew it.

"Yes," she whispered.

"You've been avoiding me for three days, sending your lackies after me." He glared. "We need to talk."

Cuddy made a dramatic show of checking her watch. "Well, we'll have to talk tomorrow. I'm going home."

"We kissed." He stated bluntly.

"Well, you kissed me, but I get your point." She clarified.

He moved several steps closer to her. "You kissed back."

"What was I supposed to do?" She asked innocently.

"For starters, not spend the next three days avoiding me." He raised his eyebrows at her.

"I haven't been avoiding you," she lied. "I've simply been busy."

"Like hell."

"Yes," she agreed. "I've been busy as hell."

"I haven't seen you in three days."

"It happens."

"No it doesn't!" he yelled. "Not with us! You are always there for some reason or another every fucking day!"

She glared back. "I didn't realize I was such an important part of your life."

He rolled his eyes. "Please, don't hand me that shit. We kissed and it meant something to you. Don't try to deny it. If it had meant nothing, you would have showed up every two hours to bitch at me until I went to the clinic. Instead, you send Brenda or whatever the hell her name is to fetch me."

"It didn't mean anything to me." She said, holding back the swell of emotion rushing forward.

"It didn't?" He smiled at her sadistically. "Are you sure?"

His lips came swiftly down on to hers.

She didn't know how she got home. She didn't know who drove. She didn't know where exactly her clothes went. She didn't know why she hadn't pushed him away. For some reason, she couldn't be mad that she hadn't.

His lips were all over neck, sucking and nipping, torturing her to each brink and then over. All she could do was moan and arch into him. She ran her hands up over his back muscles, tracing each one with the pads of her fingers. She dragged his mouth back up to hers for another kiss.

The air was stuffed with intensity. Every slick stroke, every helpless gasp; she was lost in him. He felt so right inside of her. Why had she been resisting for so long? It didn't matter now. Nothing mattered now. Sign number thirteen.

He groaned low in her ear, biting at the lobe. Her legs twined around him and pulled him as close as possible. It wasn't enough. Her hands ran roughly over his stomach muscles, caressing every bit of skin she could in her haste. She sucked on his lower lip, pulling it into her mouth and nibbling before releasing it. His hands gripped her hips tighter as he raced for that finish.

They fell over the edge together, bringing the sheets with them.

**Five Days Later…**

**July 29, 2006**

**7:23 A.M.**

**House's Condominium**

Cuddy tried to be as quiet as possible, but her clothes seemed to be scattered over a million objects that tripped her no matter where she stepped. She buttoned her shirt, sliding the pearls into their rightful slits, before straightening back up to let her eyes stray over the bed.

House lay on his stomach, one arm curled around the empty space she had occupied a few minutes before. His breathing was even, his eyes shut. She smiled. Five days of this. She was definitely losing her mind. This had to be sign number fourteen.

He moaned softly as he opened his eyes and pushed himself up onto his elbows. His eyes found her immediately. The smile on her face was not of her own accord.

His hand reached out to her. "Come back to bed." He mumbled into the pillow.

She followed. Sign number fifteen.

**Present Day…**

**August 1, 2006**

**11:03 A.M.**

**Exam room 3**

The giggle was bubbling out of her throat as she struggled against his grip. She smiled into the chaste kiss he placed on her lips.

"Let me go: I gotta get to work." She pleaded, kissing him back despite these sentiments.

House held her hips firmly to his. "Just a quickie. I'll be fast, promise."

She giggled again. "Yeah, right. We can't do this here."

He kissed her again. "Of course we can. What's the point in doing your boss if you can't have playtime at work?"

She unbuttoned his pants, slowly sliding down the zipper. "Oh, I can think of a few benefits."

**Three hours later…**

**August 1, 2006**

**Dr. Tate's office**

She finished her story with a dramatic sigh. "You see? I'm completely insane." She stated, running her hands through her hair.

He nodded, frowning at her. "I agree."

She looked up, somewhat startled. "What?"

"I agree." He repeated.

"You do?"

"I do."

"I'm actually insane?" She asked, lowering her brow.

He nodded. "How can I ignore fifteen signs? Lucky for you, we don't call this particular type of insanity crazy."

"Than what do you call it?" Her heart was beginning to race.

"Love, Lisa, love." He smiled.

House was waiting for her outside next to his motorcycle. "Well?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Are you as nuts as we both know you are?"

She smiled sarcastically at him. "Yep."

He frowned. "Really?"

"Yep." She leant in and placed a swift kiss onto his lips. "And it's all your fault."

"Is it?"

"Yep."  
"Thank god."

**And that's that! Finally! God this oneshot took a long time to write. I hope you enjoyed it! So, review. Let me know what you think. However, please do not tell me where my grammar or spelling is incorrect. This is so long and I just don't have the time to correct it. So, if that bothers you so much don't read. Other than that, read and enjoy. And then, of course, review. Other than the aforementioned, I want to know what you think. REVIEW!**


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